Gold and Silver
by maraudersmaps
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has been an annoyance, nemesis and flirt to Rose Weasley since day one. Occasionally, something happens in life which is unexpected. Rarely, something happens which is completely and utterly impossible. Will be M as story goes on.
1. Chapter 1

It was only twenty minutes into the train ride to Hogwarts, but Rose Weasley's patience was already being tested by the one and only, Scorpius Malfoy. Who else? After five years of being a constant annoyance, flirt and nemesis, why would he stop now?

"Alright, Weasley?" The blond's arm blocked the redhead from passing through into the next carriage. Scorpius had always been taller than Rose, so he constantly looked down on her, both metaphorically and literally. Right now he had the smug, gloating glint in his pale, blue-grey eyes that Rose was more than familiar with.

"Record time, Malfoy." Rose responded dryly, not bothering to try to push her way through him. Although he was skinny, he could overpower her physically whenever he felt like it, something Rose hated to admit. "I was wondering when you'd pop up to worsen my life that little bit more."

Scorpius grinned.

"Now, now, Weasley, don't get temperamental. How was your summer?"

Rose raised an eyebrow. This was a new technique. Malfoy didn't usually set a fake, positive trail into a cascade of insults, usually just diving straight into what he'd call the 'fun part'. But there was no mistaking that shimmer in his eyes; Rose could never trust that shimmer.

"Say what you want to say, Malfoy, and then I'd recommend you scarper. We both know what would happen if James spotted your little blond head annoying me yet again – any excuse to beat the lights out of you, to be honest."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you look like a rat who was recently mangled by a werewolf." Scorpius scanned the girl scornfully, spotting the Muggle outfit that was neatly folded in Rose's hands. "Oh, you changed into your Hogwarts robes? I could have helped you with that."

Typical Malfoy. Stinging insults one second, and flirty seduction the next.

"Shouldn't you be buttering up some girl somewhere?" Rose said, ignoring Scorpius' dialogue completely.

"I happen to be doing that right now." Scorpius said casually, tossing his head to remove pale strands of hair from his eyes.

It was no secret that Scorpius had a 'Sex God' status among many, many students at Hogwarts, and there was no doubt that he could get pretty much any girl he wanted, whether they were among his huge fan club or not (apart from Rose, who seemed to be the only girl who possessed enough brain cells to see right through him). The only person who surpassed Scorpius' huge romantic presence was James, who was highly boosted from the instant celebrity he'd gained from his parents. Rose and her cousins all soared in popularity before they'd even stepped through the doors of the Great Hall, simply because of the epic reputations of their families. Although Albus could have easily exploited his attention like James, he preferred not to; he was more of an introvert, becoming close with only a select group of people, and although he was friendly with pretty much everyone, he didn't flaunt himself like James did.

"Oh, really?" Rose replied sarcastically. "You don't seem to be doing a very good job. Can I get through now? I'm starting to get bored of just standing here talking to you." She made sure her voice was dripping with the usual contempt, but Scorpius managed to turn even that into a sexual joke.

"We can do more than that if you like, Weasel." He winked at the bushy-haired teenager and then, without another word, glided past her and left the carriage in the opposite direction.

Rose sighed and rolled her eyes, making her way through the Hogwarts Express towards her brother and cousins. Standard Malfoy.

* * *

><p>The first Quidditch match of the year took place on a freezing, windy day, where gusts of the icy wind ripped through the flags and goalposts, knocking hats off heads (poor Professor Longbottom had run for his hat four times already) and whipping hair onto faces with sharp slaps. Rose and Lily had both wrapped up warm, holding sticks with Gryffindor lions on the ends – the wind took no mercy with the feeble merchandise and ripped Lily's stick from her hand, making it dance further and further away.<p>

Rose whipped out her willow, phoenix-feather wand and sprung into action before the fourth-year even reached for her own.

"_Accio lion stick_!" The stick zoomed into her grasp, and she handed it back to her cousin, smiling subtlety. Apparently, she'd inherited her quick reflexes and magical skill from her mother, which was entirely believable; her father was still as clumsy as ever.

A cheer rose from the stands as the players started to zoom out onto the pitch. Rose joined the mass of red-and-gold Gyrffindors screaming out as their team fought against the wind to lock into positions. Rose could make out the scruffy head of Albus, the team captain and Seeker, and James, playing for his last year at Hogwarts, placing himself in the front-and-center region of the team as the top Chaser. And there, flitting in front of the Slytherin goalpoasts like a particularly irritating fly, was Scorpius Malfoy, his emerald robes fluttering in the wind.

Rose smiled subtly. Slytherin would surely be beaten; this was Albus' first year as the captain of the team, but he snatched the Snitch away from his opponents 80% of the time with unnerving skill and precision. Albus was shy, but he was always quietly determined, channelling his energy into one goal at any given time. James, although he'd turned down being nominated by the Professors for Quidditch Captaincy due to conflicting time periods (the captain before Albus was one year older than James, and already held captaincy when James joined the team in his fourth year, and there was really no point for James to be captain for just one year after the predecessor graduated Hogwarts, so he specifically told the Gryffindor head of house not to consider him, paving the way for his brother to get the position), was a respected and authoritative member of the Quidditch team, and was Albus' rock and helper when it came to developing Quidditch strategies and formulating a team. Since James and Albus had joined the team three years ago, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup every year; and this had solidified with occasional strings of unbeaten games as Albus found his own and seemed to have an eye for the Snitch, something he had inherited from his father to make him even _more _like Harry Potter. James had spookily fitted in with his namesake, filling the spot of the star Chaser, the Quaffle bouncing between him and his fellow Chasers as if it had wings.

Madam Carey, the Quidditch Professor and referee, rose up into the centre of the pitch on her broom to blow the whistle. The screaming and jeers from the crowd died down as a shrill, high-pitched shriek cut through the air. Slytherin had won the toss; before Rose and Lily had even blinked, the Quaffle had been chucked from one green-and-silver figure to the next, whizzing across the pitch on their brooms. Rose could only just make out the players; she'd left her binoculars in her dormitory, and so had to squint to see what was happening.

The Slytherins got dangerously close to the Gryffindor goalposts, before tucking the Quaffle through the centre goalposts, feinting to steer Louis Weasley to the left before zipping through the empty space. It was Louis' first game ever as the new Gryffindor Keeper, and as a third-year, he was the youngest in the team. But one of the Chasers patted him on the back and he settled back into position as the Slytherin Chasers soared in a full circle among the stands once in celebration. The scoreboard ticked the correct scores into place; Rose could vividly imagine the smug, gleeful smirk that Scorpius probably held right now.

The match was fast and furious – the Quaffle was launched through every hoop so many times that the commentator was finding it hard to keep up the scores without hesitating to look at the scoreboard. And still, Albus was fluttering among the game, searching avidly for the Snitch, the elusive, shimmering Snitch. Slytherin still had the upper hand by fifty points, but Albus was still as calm and cool as ever; he maintained a constant speed as he continued his search for that one glint, that one tiny reflection of the sunlight that would catch his eye.

And there it was – the Golden Snitch! Rose and Lily gasped as the little figure of Albus suddenly switched from a peaceful hover to a bolting beeline, zooming in a direct line straight towards a tiny glimmer of gold buzzing in the air. Albus fixed his gaze on the Snitch – it flitted away in the opposite direction, before hesitating at the top of Slytherin's left goalpost. Albus willed his broom to go faster, pushing it on to the very limit.

"And Albus Potter has caught sight of the Snitch!" The commentator's voice boomed throughout the stadium; the crowd's gaze abandoned the progress of the Quaffle and instead fixed on the little figure in red and gold, battling against the wind to grasp the Snitch that was still hovering above the goalpost. Albus saw nothing else but the Snitch – he was closing in – the Gryffindors were roaring in encouragement, the Slytherins booed to try and divert his attention, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs goggled at the scene – the Snitch was a few feet away – Albus extended his arm, squinting slightly...

_Thud_.

Silence hung in the air as the audience processed what had just happened; and then they all exploded at the same time. The Slytherins punched the air in glee, while the rest of the student body and the teachers gasped, before screaming in anguish.

Albus Potter had been knocked clean off his broom, and was hurtling several hundred feet through the air, about to hit the ground at any moment, a bundle of red and gold material, desperately clutching at the air for something solid.

"Albus! _He's gonna fall!_" Lily shrieked, watching her brother tumble.

Rose Weasley had drawn a complete blank as to which incantation to use to save him; her body was paralysed by the shock, the wand in her hand rendered useless as she stood without saying a word, as if her mind had been wiped clean with an eraser.

Professor McGonagall, who was nearing retirement, had initiated a spell which flung a silver dust across the grass, presumably giving it a property that would prevent Albus coming to any harm when he hit the floor; but it wasn't necessary. A collective sigh of relief escaped the crowd as James Potter zoomed into his brother's vertical path to catch him seconds before he hit the floor – James had locked his arm across Albus' chest, underneath his armpits, holding him in that precarious position as he zoomed along the ground, before coming to a stop beside Madam Carey, setting his brother down. A cheer ripped through the stadium for James as he examined his brother, who was nodding shakily as James asked him questions, looking slightly dazed.

Madam Carey blew her whistle, drawing all the players in for a timeout as Albus shook his head to reboot his body and mindset into its normal state. The whole audience, including the Slytherins, had their gazes fixed onto the scruffy-haired boy as he stood up, his brother patting his back.

The crowd then started to settle back to normal, a low mumble rising from the mass of people. As the teachers sat down from their standing positions and Madam Carey began to wave the players back to their normal positions in the air after inspecting Albus, James' furious voice rang out for all to hear.

"_Locomotor Mortis! Confringo! Entomorphis! Flagrante! Impedimenta! Flipendo! Levicorpus! Melofors!..._" More and more jinxes and curses were lividly shouted as sparks and beams of light escaped James' wand, all of them aimed at Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

"You... absolute... _shithead_... Scorpius... Malfoy!"

Rose had barged into the Great Hall, storming straight towards the long Slytherin table, her eyes fixed on that one blond head among the mass of green-clad students.

Surprised murmurs and ominous whispers rattled among the tables as Rose pushed past, her eyebrows furrowed into a dangerous frown. Her wand was extracted from the pocket of her robes in one swift motion; she stalked through the mass of fangirls that clustered near Scorpius, before finally emerging directly in front of him.

"What's up, Weasel?" He asked casually, those pale blue eyes fixed on her face as she chewed through a mouthful of apple pie.

"You _idiot._ How _dare y_ou knock Albus off his broom! I never thought you'd have the nerve to stoop so low, Malfoy." Rose spat, wrinkling her nose in disgust and moving her wand so that it was aimed at the boy's pale neck.

"It was an accident." Scorpius stood up to face her; she never let her wand leave his neck. "I'm sorry."

"You're not though, are you?" Rose retorted, narrowing her eyes; they were blue, a much deeper blue than Malfoy's, a Weasley blue – the deep colour of the ocean, as opposed to his icy, watery orbs. "It's hard to accidentally knock into someone with the force to knock them off their broom. He could have broken a bone. He could have _died_."

Her voice had shifted into a precarious growl, on the verge of cursing Malfoy to oblivion.

"What can I say?" He smirked. "I can't help my own strength."

Scorpius hadn't suffered much from James' onslaught, a fact that he was very smug about; he'd been hit by the Locomotor Mortis spell purely because he was unprepared, but as his legs stiffened and locked, he'd whipped out his wand, conjuring shield charms galore. The yell of "Protego" became louder than the continuous offensive spells that James flung his way, and eventually, Scorpius had begun to fight back, his legs still locked as he sat on the floor, firing offensive spells at James until the Professors intervened, blocking each boy's spells and tearing them away from each other.

As he had spoken, Scorpius had grasped his own wand, letting his arm hang loosely at his side, his wand flicked up towards Rose.

"Let's not do anything rash, eh Rose?" He said quietly, his eyes glinting, that smirk still plastered over his face. "Can't we kiss and make up?"

Rose rolled her eyes, but her stability was beginning to crumble. Malfoy was a skilled wizard – not as good as her, but still worthy of a duel. She wouldn't want to taint her perfect school record, nor would she want to be stripped of her Prefect status for one spat that could potentially end badly...

Oh, but she was just _itching _to send Malfoy crashing across the tables. Her sensible and rebellious halves were battling against each other, as Scorpius continued to gaze at her arrogantly, watching her as her mind ticked into the answer he knew she would come to.

"If you _ever _harm my family again." She muttered, dropping her arm, "You will regret your entire existence. Got that? I'll curse you into the next century, I promise you."

"I'm glad you're being rational." Scorpius answered gleefully, pocketing his wand. "I didn't catch your answer to the kissing part, though."

"There wasn't one." Rose snarled, turning on her heel and stalking away, ignoring Malfoy completely. The fangirls, who had remained deathly quiet during the spat, starting to giggle again, batting their eyelashes at Malfoy and crooning at him for being "so brave". Rose felt her stomach twist unpleasantly at the way those girls practically threw themselves at him. Desperate bimbos... did they have no shame?

* * *

><p>Rose Weasley's bushy, gingery-red hair had been scraped backed into a ponytail, the hairband on the brink of snapping from the thickness of her locks. Tied-back hair was a sign of deep and intense concentration – this Draught of Living Death was a complex potion to brew, and it needed every shred of her focus. She chopped her roots swiftly, hunching over the textbook again as the mixture in her cauldron started to exude a gentle blue steam. She had a flashback of her Uncle Harry telling her how he'd stumbled about a set of potion tricks – but he'd refused to say what they were, for some reason, saying it was better to just stick to the book after all.<p>

Rose glanced over at Albus – he hadn't finished cutting his roots yet, eyeing them and trying to cut them as precisely as he could. Bless him – Albus always gave his everything to any task. A patch of pale, bright hair teased Rose from the corner of her vision, but she refused to even flick her eyes at Scorpius, determinedly fixing her gaze on her textbook. Grabbing her Sopophorous Bean, she began to cut it up smoothly with her silver dagger, before sensing someone standing at her desk.

Looking up, she jumped, so startled that the silver dagger swept across her index finger, forming a shallow cut. How the hell had Scorpius moved so fast?

"Sorry, Weasley." He rasied his eyebrows, the casual smirk still on his face. He was obviously used to making girls jump, typically out of joy and excitement that the Great One had decided to talk to them. "Were you stunned by my good looks and slick charm?"

Rose sucked her finger, a painful tingle pricking at her finger.

"Shove off, Malfoy." She mumbled, shooting him a glare. He cocked his head to the side playfully, leaning forward with his hands on her desk, supporting himself with his arms. As he leaned forward, Rose resisted the urge to lean back; that was exactly what he wanted. No, she would stand her ground and not budge an inch from her position.

"Do you _really _mean that, Weasel?" He looked at her finger. "Want a plaster?"

"No." Rose replied bluntly, flicking her wand at the cut and mumbling a spell so the small cut sealed up again. "Don't you have a potion to make?"

"Demara's doing that." He said casually, shrugging his shoulders. Rose looked over to his cauldron – sure enough, there was a little brunette clad in Hufflepuff robes fussing over his potion, fretting over the ingredients to make his brew perfect – never mind her own. If she was a typical fangirl, she'd let her potion burn to oblivion before his was tainted by even the slightest amount of imperfection.

Rose was not impressed, rolling her eyes again, something she seemed to do often when in Malfoy's presence.

"You got one of your little followers to do it? That's not chivalrous in the slightest. You should know better, what with being a supposed ladies' man and all that."

"And when have I cared about chivalry?" They were right in Scorpius' element – playful banter. Well. Playful banter for him, dry retorts for Rose. He leaned forward a few more centimetres, almost daring her to back away. Cheeky git. "We both know I could get any of these pants off in a matter of minutes, with or without chivalry. Including yours."

That last bit was tacked on just to wind her up – or maybe not, knowing Malfoy; Rose shot him another deathly glare, but even she, containing a fair amount of Weasley genes, couldn't help but redden at the thought.

Scorpius grinned in glee.

"Aha, gotcha Weasel! Little Miss Toughie just blushed." As if to drive home the painful joke even more, he leaned in that little bit more, so that their faces were mere millimetres apart; his face painted with glee and smugness, as usual, hers with angry embarrassment. Icy blue met ocean azure; their eyes locked for a few seconds. His eyes, through the teasing and flirty exterior, were calculating and focused; he was working her out, his mind working to find out exactly what type of person she was. Hers, through her rage and hatred, were doing exactly the same – in that handful of seconds, they froze, trying to dig through each person's hard exterior, trying to pull out traits of their personality they could use to their advantage in an argument, trying to work out, after all these years, who they really _were_.

"Hello hello, Scorpius, why aren't you at your desk?" Professor Morrell, the Potions master, appeared out of nowhere. As if an electric current had been conducted through their flesh, Rose and Scorpius jerked away from each other, both leaning back at exactly the same time, still looking at each other in an uncertain, wary fashion. It was Scorpius that broke the hold; tearing his eyes away to look at the Professor, before smiling that smile that charmed so many.

"Sorry, Sir, I was asking Wease- Rose how to properly cut my Sopophorous Bean." And with that, he sauntered off, in textbook Scorpius fashion.

Rose focused back to her Bean, wielding the silver knife again and cutting the Bean in precise lines, but her concentration was a shred less solid than before, just that little bit more shaky. Why? She sifted through her head, trying to locate the source of what was fazing her, an unfamiliar sensation - nothing. And yet that shade of blue, that pale, icy blue, the _Scorpius _blue, remained in her head, refusing to leave...


	3. Chapter 3

Rose finished her Transfiguration essay with a flourish, rolling up the parchment as Albus stared at her in amazement.

"You've finished? Already? Rose... we started an hour ago! It's a roll and a half of parchment!"

Rose just smiled, tucking the parchment into her bag, before pulling Albus' essay towards her, her hand automatically zooming to the mistakes to cross them out or correct them.

"Thanks, Rose, you're the best." A sleep-deprived Albus said gratefully, rubbing his eyes. "I'm gonna go and..." He finished the sentence with a yawn. Albus had been bogged down with the increased amount of sixth-year homework they'd been bombarded with, plus his Quidditch commitments. Sleepily, almost walking into a few squashy armchairs, Albus managed to wend his way to the staircase leading up to the boy's dormitories and disappeared behind the stone.

Rose corrected Albus' essay in no time; tucking that into her schoolbag beside her own essay, she slung her bag onto her back and decided to head to the Library to do her Charms homework. She pushed open the portrait hole, on her way to the Library.

She had just descended a staircase when the wizened old caretaker, Filch, lurched into her path.

"You! Did _you _set off those dungbombs on the fourth floor?" He croaked, his face screwed up into a permanent grimace. Rose stopped in her tracks, looking apprehensive as he sniffed at the air.

"I smell dungbombs! It _was _you, wasn't it? Bratty little children... one day I'll be allowed to whip the into shape... but for now, come with me!" He grabbed the strap of her bag and proceeded to drag her towards the Headmistress' office, when a voice cut through the little scene.

"Oi, Filch! It wasn't her, it was me!"

Rose whipped her head around to see a fifth-year girl standing confidently in the doorway leading to a different corridor. She was standing tall and strong, her head held high, her hands on her hips, as if daring someone to contradict her. Filch goggled; rarely did a student turn themselves in, and this girl would certainly fit his mould of a troublemaker. Letting go of Rose's bag instantly, he barked at the other girl.

"You, then! Follow me! We'll see what the Headmistress gives you..." He giggled to himself at the thought of a severely long spat of detentions involving cleaning without magic. "Chop chop!"

The girl sauntered past Rose, not even looking at her once, and seemingly happily, she followed Filch in the direction of the Head's office.

Rose was stunned. This girl had just... appeared out of nowhere and said that she'd done it... that didn't even make sense...?

"You're welcome."

Rose turned to look up at the staircase she'd just descended. Scorpius Malfoy was leaning against the banister, looking positively perfect with his tie loose and his hair messed up.

"What?" Rose asked, astonished, her reddish-gingery hair framing her hesitant expression.

"You're welcome." Scorpius repeated, making absolutely no sense at all, the smirk widening slightly.

"You mean... you did that?" Rose asked, putting two and two together. "You told that girl to own up?"

"Oh, no." Scorpius descended the stairs slowly. "She didn't do it. I just... told her to take the fall."

"What? Why?" Rose's anger flared up, her blue eyes glinting dangerously. "That's a horrible thing to do, Scor- Malfoy!"

"She was okay with it." He shrugged. "You saw her."

"What did you give her in return?"

"A kiss and a cheeky squeeze on the bum... nothing big."

"_Malfoy!_" Rose said, half outraged, half exasperated. He had actually arranged for that girl to take the hit? He'd gotten one of his cronies to jump to her rescue? She didn't even need saving... the truth would have outed, McGonagall would have known that Rose wasn't the type of person to release dungbombs, she wasn't some sort of helpless damsel in distress who _needed _saving...

"You thought you'd be a knight in shining armour, did you?" She snarled. "I don't need saving, Malfoy. Especially not from you." She turned on her heel, storming into a corridor. Malfoy suddenly sprang to life, his feet quickly catching up with her so that he was walking alongside her.

"I didn't mean to offend you, Weasel! I promise, I just thought... You hate any sort of stain on your reputation, and –"

"So you thought you'd jump in and save the day?" Rose laughed spitefully. "Trying to act the hero again? Those moves don't work on me, _Scorpius_, you know that perfectly well." She spat out his name, picking up the pace and walking even faster, turning a corner violently. She managed to hold on to his doggedness, keeping up with her, the smirk wiped off his face completely. It was a rare sight to behold, a Scorpius who had lost control of a situation.

Rose saw what she had set her sights on; the Fat Lady's portrait. Scorpius, noticing too, knew he had a limited time frame until she disappeared into a place where he couldn't get to her.

"I didn't know you'd get so annoyed, Weas-Rose." Rose showed no change in her stony expression – although she made a mental note that he'd deliberately switched from the annoying nickname to her actual name... interesting...

"It's not just this situation in particular. It's what it reflects. You _always _feel a need to interfere, to annoy me, to always one-up me. I'm sick of it." She got closer and closer to the portrait, Scorpius sped up, blocking her path so she had to stop in her tracks.

"Let me _through_."

"I don't _understand_ you, Rose." He blurted out unexpectedly. Rose really was shocked to the core, now; what happened to the usual Scorpius? Cocky, cool, calm, collected Scorpius? Arrogant Scorpius who always knew how to twist a situation into his favour? As she glared up into his eyes, she knew that that Scorpius had gone – this one was staring at her with a sort of desperate, confused expression, completely baffled. His question had come completely from the heart.

Rose took advantage of this small pause to fight her way through, running up to the Fat Lady.

"Bowtruck-"

A hand clapped over her mouth and, suddenly, Scorpius had wedged himself between her and the portrait, his back pressed right up against the Fat Lady.

"Oh! Well, _excuse _me!" The Fat Lady huffed, looking shocked.

"Rose, please listen to me." Scorpius' eyes locked onto hers, pleading. "Why don't you – I mean, how do I – I just –"

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open – Scorpius was pushed into Rose as the Gryffindor inside pushed themselves out; his sudden weight caused her to trip and fall backwards, her and Scorpius landing in a messed up heap. Scorpius' torso was pushing down on her front, his face millimetres from hers, both their faces screwed up in a grimace of pain as they hit the ground. Opening their eyes simultaneously, their eyes locked once more, just like they had in the Potions room, before –

"Malfoy? _Rose?_"

James Sirius Potter was standing in the portrait hole, looking utterly aghast, a mixture of hatred and surprise lashed across his face.

"What the _hell _are you doing on my cousin?" James gasped in horror, before grabbing Scorpius by the scruff of the neck and yanking him upwards onto his feet. James and Scorpius had similar thin, toned physiques, mainly from Quidditch, but James was somehow superior.

"I wasn't –"

"Of course you weren't." James growled. "You might be able to mess around with a shedload of girls and swagger around, but _she's _out of bounds, you little rat-"

"No, James," Rose had hurriedly picked herself up off the ground, brushing the dust off her robes. "He just fell on me, I swear, you pushed open the portrait and he was behind it."

James was lost for words for a moment, surprised that Rose out of all people were sticking up for Scorpius, when everyone knew she and Scorpius had a hate-hate relationship.

"What was he doing behind the portrait hole?"

"Oh... just, Professor Longbottom forgot to tell me something in Herbology and told Scorpius to tell me..."

This was obviously a complete lie – the story was so unlikely that James raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to ask another question, before closing it again. Shaking his head, he pushed Scorpius away, who frowned as if he were about to hit James back.

"Whatever. Just... _you_, get lost." James had never abandoned an opportunity to fight with Scorpius, but this time he simply swept away, shaking his head and pulling a ragged piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes.

There was an awkward silence between the two sixth-years, and then Rose clambered into the Gryffindor common room, the Fat Lady's portrait swinging shut behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

For a few hours after the Scorpius incident, Rose seemed to be in some sort of mystical, hazy state, a million questions swirling through her head, whizzing and melting together as though they were boiling in some sort of cauldron. Rose felt as if she were on autopilot; just sitting in a squashy Gryffindor armchair, as her relatives chattered around her, nodding her head and laughing at appropriate times.

What the hell _was _that, anyway? That was a completely new Scorpius she had seen – in her sixth year of knowing and hating that boy, not once had he ever acted like that. And Scorpius wasn't _that _good an actor – it was bewildering. She just couldn't understand it, couldn't get her head around any of it – for once, Rose, one of the smartest witches of her year, was stumped. This was a problem she couldn't solve, something completely illogical that had thrown her straight into the deep end.

She was still wedged deep into these thoughts as James clambered through the portrait hole, looking as if he was going to curse someone at any moment.

"Lily!" He barked, storming towards the small cluster of relatives. Albus, who had been quietly been formulating Quidditch formations on a roll of parchment, looked up in alarm, recognising the angry tone. Hugo, his mop of ginger hair coloured pink because he lost a bet, shifted position from sitting on the top of his armchair with his feet on the seat cushion, to actually sitting in it properly, trying to blend out of sight of James' anger – but, fortunately for everyone else, the eldest Potter only had eyes for his little sister, the redheaded fourth-year who lounged in her own armchair, watching her brother arrive with a slightly amused expression.

"Yeah?"

"_What _were you doing with Ritchie Macmillan on the fifth floor, behind the statue of the-"

"Excuse me." Lily interrupted coolly. "_What _were you doing, spying on me with the Marauder's Map? I told you, if you carry on exploiting that thing I _will _tell Dad you took it from his desk."

"I have _every _right to know what my sister-"

"No, James, you don't!" Lily's tone rose dangerously. Hugo, Rose and Albus had frozen, not wanting to make a move or a sound which either of the Potters could latch onto and lash at them for. Lily and James were ferocious beasts when they were arguing...

"I don't want _my _sister going around and-"

"And _what_?"

"You've been out with... how many guys is it, now?"

"It's none of your business, James! Keep your nose _out _of my personal life!"

"He's one year older than you!"

"He's a _prefect_, you should be satisfied!"

"Well, I'm not! Next time I see that Macmillan-"

"You won't be doing _anything _next time you see Ritchie, thank you very much. And besides, at least I have _proper _relationships... I don't have one-day flings with countless girls like you, James!"

James rarely blushed, but now his face was scarlet, clashing awfully with his messy black hair.

"I don't-"

"Oh, don't lie to me." Lily said coldly, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. "Everyone knows you've never had a relationship lasting more than a week! You're a _player_, James, just taking advantage of the fact that girls throw themselves at you because of Dad's reputation-"

"Oi! I'll have you know that I went out with Georgia Brown for three weeks, thank you very much."

"Oh, big woop." Lily rolled her eyes. "You can't attempt to ban me from seeing anyone when _you _go around flaunting yourself and dating five girls in a week-"

"That's just an exaggeration!" James said hotly, but everyone knew that Lily had won the argument – for now. James pushed a second-year from an armchair, pulled it towards his siblings and cousins, and flopped into it, muttering words like "punch", "Macmillan" and "ridiculous". Lily tossed her hair and shot Rose a smile, before turning back to her star-chart for Astronomy.

"You okay, Rose?" Albus raised an eyebrow at her, his expression clearly saying I-know-you're-not-so-don't-lie.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Rose plastered a fake grin on her face and spoke unnaturally high. Damn, she'd blown it now – Albus was going to wriggle it out of her.

"Spill." He said simply, dotting a line from one of his miniature people on the parchment to another.

He looked up, and Rose couldn't think of what to say as his bright green eyes locked onto hers. He'd find out anyway – Albus was her best friend, he knew her inside out; if there was one person she wouldn't be able to hide it from any more, it would be Albus.

But what was there to hide, anyway? Nothing. There was absolutely nothing that he didn't know already – Rose and Scorpius hated each other. He'd been bugging her lately. And that... that incident at the portrait hole, it hadn't really been _anything_, had it? All Scorpius had done was stammer a few sentences about not understanding her – which was fair enough. Why did she feel like something huge and eventful had happened in her life? It was nothing. There was nothing going on.

"Seriously, Al, it's nothing." She shrugged. It was mainly true...

Albus contented himself for now, but Rose knew he'd ask later. James was too busy wallowing in anger to notice, and Hugo was working on getting his hair colour back to normal – every time he uttered the incantation and tapped his head with his wand, the pink hair had turned to a different drastic colour: blue, purple, green...

Rose muttered the same incantation and waved her wand lazily, so her little brother's hair turned back to his shiny, normal ginger colour. Albus didn't notice the cloudy gaze she shifted into again, and she dived back into her thoughts.

* * *

><p>"Weasel!" The Defence Against the Darks Arts classroom was filled with wisps of silvery vapour – students desperately tried to conjure Patronuses. This sort of advanced magic, Rose's mother had told her, wasn't introduced into the curriculum until recently, after much deliberation with the Minister (Kingsley Shacklebolt, who popped round for dinner sometimes), the Auror department, and the Hogwarts' Board of Governors.<p>

Rose jumped; the silver mist that had begun to take shape into an animal disintegrated as she lost concentration. She whipped around, angry, her red hair flying – expecting to see Scorpius' thin, blonde form smirking at her, she received a double shock when a brunet boy with wonky teeth stood there.

"Who are you?" Rose asked, before she could stop the words; dragging up snatches of information from the back of head, she recognised this boy as Jeremy Flint, a Slytherin who was quite unpleasant towards anyone who wasn't in his own House.

"Jeremy. Jeremy Flint. Haven't we met?" He stuck out his hand and smirked at her. Unimpressed, Rose didn't shake his hand, letting it drop to his side, her eyebrows raised in slight distaste.

"Why are you calling me Weasel?" She asked coolly, a small frown appearing on her face. Her arm was still raised in conjuring-Patronus-mode, her head twisted around over her shoulder, but the discomfort wasn't bothering her at all; 'Weasel' was a name specially used by Scorpius, and only Scorpius. The Weasleys and Potters barely got called names anyways, but on the rare occasions that Rose was targeted by playful banter, the name 'Weasel' was never uttered by anyone other than the annoying blonde that she had had a hate-hate relationship with for years.

"Can I not?" Flint looked slightly shocked – but he was clearly mocking her, the shimmer in his eyes both spiteful and playful.

"What do you want?" Rose's patience was quickly melting away. The tone of her voice was already mutating into a harsh snap... she'd never spoken to this guy before, why was he suddenly swaggering around her and – and –

And then it hit her, why she was a tad more annoyed than she should have been. He was acting like Scorpius... Exactly like Scorpius, except without that certain edge of superiority and scorn and Scorpius-ness that only he could manufacture.

"I'm only introducing myself to you." Flint said, attempting the offhand tone of Malfoy. What the hell was going on? Had Malfoy sent him to do this as some sort of weird prank? Because this was both painful for her to watch, and humiliating for Flint to carry out. Now that she had worked out who his behaviour was based on, it was terribly inadequate and plain awful...

"I'm Jeremy Flint. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?" There was a trip the weekend after next, the first trip since school started, and Rose had intended to spend it with her group of cousins and Hugo, as usual. Occasionally, one of them (usually Lily or James) would go off to spend it with a certain someone, but normally they stuck together, as always. Would Rose split from them to spend it with this hateful boy who liked to push Hufflepuffs down toilet bowls? Not a chance.

"No, thank you." She said primly, turning her head away from him and mustering the concentration to conjure her Patronus once again. A happy memory... a mixture of Albus' grateful smile as she took his essay, and Hugo's comical hair-colour situation.

"_Expecto Patronu_-"

"Why don't you want to go with me?" Flint flitted into her vision, looking disgruntled. She sighed as she lowered her wand.

"Because, Flint, I don't like you."

"Why?"

"Because you're not a very nice human being, Flint." Rose said calmly. "You throw Ravenclaws into the lake, you _attempt _to hex Gryffindors into oblivion, including my brother. It's a pity Lily's too fiery for you to handle." Flint opened his mouth to respond, but Rose shushed him but holding up a finger. "The only people you're nice to are Slytherins. You barely give anyone the respect you think you're entitled to. You stupidly try to pick on people who are much bigger and smarter than you, for example, my cousin James. How many times have you tried to jinx him? About six? And how many times have you succeeded? None. You're arrogant, selfish, and just plain distasteful –"

"Scorpius is all that." Flint said hotly. This had some sort of effect on Rose – like a hot spear had been shot in slow-motion into her stomach.

"So?"

"Well, you're quite obviously attracted to him."

Rose's hot-spear feeling dissolved at once, and she laughed.

"Oh, please! Everyone knows that's not true. Are you really as stupid as you look? It's a fact that me and Scorpius have hated each other for-"

"Hate. Yeah, sure, 'hate'." Flint dragged huge air quotes through the air with his fingers, before sweeping away, clearly disgruntled and unhappy.

Rose quickly scanned the room. Nobody had overheard the little spat – but, she realised, there was one person who _always _picked up on the negatives in her life and sauntered over purely to enhance them. Scorpius – where was he? He was in a lot of her classes, Gryffindors and Slytherins inexplicably paired together for a lot of subjects... Albus had gone to the toilet, which was lucky; he would have noticed the hot-spear feeling in her stomach, and would have guessed that something was up. But where was Scorpius? Come to think of it, Rose hadn't seen Scorpius since the incident at the portrait hole... which was odd, because Scorpius was like a constant presence in her life. Where was he? Why had he skipped classes? He hadn't been in Potions either... how had she not noticed?

Wait. Why was she expecting herself to notice? It's not like she _wanted _Scorpius constantly taunting her, throwing scorn and being a flirt at exactly the same time. It had always been an irritant.

Confused, Rose raised her wand again. But for the rest of the lesson, she couldn't concentrate hard enough to produce more than a few wisps of white mist.

* * *

><p>Rose got up early the next day, for a reason that she didn't even know. In a haze of brightness, heavy eyelids and soft robes, she got dressed, ran a brush through her hair, grabbed her school bag and went down for an early breakfast.<p>

There were a few other clumps of early risers, and surprisingly, Lily had just wiped clean a plate of toast, getting up just as Rose sat down beside her.

"What are you doing up so early?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow and starting to spread marmalade on a piece of toast.

"Oh, umm..." Lily scanned the Great Hall quickly. "Well. I don't really like to upset James, the little hypocrite. So I told Ritchie to meet me before James has woken up... it might give him a better peace of mind." Lily shrugged and walked out. She seemed a bit off... but maybe that was because of the constant arguing with James. Rose pushed that to the back of her mind, eating toast and reading through her Herbology textbook at the same time. Slowly, people began to trickle in for breakfast, and her cousins and Hugo flopped into seats around her, drowsily stuffing food into their mouths before heading towards their first classes.

Again, Scorpius was absent from Potions. Where the hell had he been these last few days? He surely wasn't in the hospital wing – there would be girls crying all over the place, crowds of his cronies pouring into the hospital wing to lavish him with presents... no, he was simply avoiding the lessons. Avoiding her? No. What happened at the portrait hole... that was insignificant. It was nothing. Really. It could easily be forgotten... in fact, she had pretty much thrown it out of her head, not looking back at it again. But then, why was something gnawing at her insides?

Still in a confused daze, Rose worked her way throughout the school day – even the teachers sensed that something was wrong; the concentrated glint in her eye had faded, and she just seemed to be stuck in another world, unbeknown to her that she strongly resembled Luna Lovegood at this present moment in time. Her thoughts were filled with the half-muttered incantations and potions ingredients she was supposed to be focusing on, that certain shade of blue that she had last locked her own eyes on over a simmering cauldron a few days ago, the moment when Scorpius looked pitiful, desperate, even –

"Sorry I'm late, Sir." A voice pierced her thoughts clearly and sharply – before she had even turned her head, she knew who it was; not just by the oh-so-familiar voice and cocky tone, but the fact that several girls had erupted into giggles, a few even turning their vinegar into pink champagne instead of wine.

Scorpius Malfoy paused in the doorframe, shooting a sheepish grin at the Professor, who tutted and docked ten points from Slytherin, beckoning for the blond to take his seat. Scorpius, in his usual garb of an untucked shirt, loosened tie and ruffled hair, sauntered past several girls and took his place at a bench behind Rose's. She refused to look at him, as always – geez, did these girls have no shame? She glanced scornfully in their direction – they were giggling among themselves and shooting glances towards Scorpius as he unpacked his bag, but he wasn't paying attention to anyone, that irritating smirk still plastered over his face.

A wave of relief swept over Rose – wait, what the _hell_? Why was she feeling _relieved_? Nothing had happened to him! She had no reason to feel relieved about anything! It wasn't like Malfoy had just escaped a Hungarian Horntail – and even if he had, why would she care? He was a detestable, worthless little slug. Taking a deep breath and slamming her eyes shut, Rose opened them again, and turned her vinegar into wine with one swish of her wand. As her Professor was, once again, delighted at her work, and she'd earned twenty points for Gryffindor, she finally felt normal, for the first time in a couple of days.

But this was so _weird_. She hated Scorpius, and he hated her... why was he able to control her emotions like this? And it wasn't even _her._.. it was just her subconscious, some tiny hidden part of her, that was feeling relieved or... or... whatever that emotion was. But it meant nothing. It meant nothing.

Rose distracted herself but watching, slightly amused, as Albus tried to turn his own vinegar to wine. A swish, an incantation; not wine, exactly... milk. Another swish. Orange juice. The next swish was aggravated, and it didn't help; the orange juice turned to pickle. Exasperated, Albus squeezed his eyes tightly shut and poured all of his concentration into the next try –

"Alright, Weasel?"

Rose jumped, sending the goblet of wine flying – it fell to the floor with a clatter. Hurriedly muttering _Reparo _and wiping the floor clean of the wine, Rose looked up, biting the inside of her cheek, to face Scorpius, who was leaning on the front of her bench, his arms crossed, looking at her over his right shoulder.

"What?" She responded acidly; Scorpius chuckled.

"Really, Weasel, you've got to improve your manners."

"Wha – whe – _huh_?" Rose spluttered, completely aghast; her wand shot pink sparks into the air. Why was he acting so... so... so _normal_? He had totally wrecked the cocky facade at the portrait hole. How could he snap back to being this character, right now, in front of her? Or... or was _this _his real character? If so, what was that back of the portrait hole?

_I thought you said that what happened at the portrait hole was insignificant... not worth remembering..._ a little voice said in the back of her head. As Scorpius looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised, she argued with her other conscience; _It's not! But this doesn't exactly make sense, does it?_

_Pft._

_What do you mean, pft?_

After this sentence, Rose realised she was acting crazy.

"What's up with you, Weasel?" Malfoy asked casually, swiping her goblet off her desk and twirling it in his fingers. Rose spotted a cluster of girls across the room, some gazing at Scorpius longingly, some shooting her death stares.

"Oh, get lost." She snapped at him, infuriated. He acted so normal, yet _so _annoyingly, in pure Scorpius fashion. It was unfair. It was unfair how she wasn't able to solve a simple illogical problem like him, unfair how girls were envious of her for something she didn't _want _to be envious for, did she like having this sort of relationship with him? It was mutual dislike, yes, but still close, nevertheless. But no, she didn't want it.

She didn't want it!

For some reason, she had to repeat it in her head a few times before the phrase stuck.

"Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Scorpius said dryly, as the class started packing their bags to leave.

"Where have you even been?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. _She didn't care_. So why was she even asking? He could have been at the bottom of the Lake with the Giant Squid for all she cared.

He stared at her for a couple of minutes before answering.

"Nowhere. Not that it's any of your business. Why do _you _care?"

"I don't." Rose said quickly – too quickly. She knew she'd fluffed that moment up... so, to avoid any more embarrassment, she tugged Albus (who was still trying to turn vinegar into wine) along with her and left the classroom for her next lesson.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose Weasley slowly learned, over the course of about three or four days, that Jeremy Flint had some sort of obsession with her; half seemed to be actual feelings for her, and half seemed to be a confusing persistency to make her go to Hogsmeade with him. It was the same at every attempt; he'd ditched the acting-like-Scorpius method and just tried to be charming, which failed so hard that it was quite painful to watch at times. Then, after each rejection, his forehead would crease up and he'd throw a tantrum like a baby, looking angry, confused and bearing a huge resemblance to a troll.

It was quite annoying, really; Rose was extremely tempted to hex the boy into oblivion, but thought that might stain her perfect Prefect reputation. She could try docking points... but that was unfair on the rest of the House, and if Scorpius caught wind of that he'd just tail her and dock 50 points whenever she took a step.

It was 6 o'clock in the Gryffindor common room – most people were trying to make a dent in their huge piles of homework. Rose, having already completed hers, sat in an armchair by the fire and made patterns in the air out of gold sparks whilst chatting to Lily and Albus. When James dragged Albus and some other Quidditch players off for a late kickabout with a Quaffle, and Lily scurried off to meet Ritchie, Rose became bored; after chatting about meaningless girly things with various clusters of girls around the common room, she quickly lost interest in their giggles and dull topics of conversation, and decided to go out and watch the small portion of the Quidditch team that had gone out to the grounds a short while before.

Leaving her bag in her dormitory, she clambered out of the common room, walking steadily down staircases and through corridors. Slowly, she started to shift into autopilot mode again, lost in a mess of thoughts... combinations of Flint being annoying and Lily constantly sneaking off to meet Ritchie... James opening the portrait hole... Scorpius in general... and, once again, that particular shade of blue...

_Thwump_.

Rose's foot sunk into a trick step on the staircase, knocking her violently from her thoughts. Cursing under her breath, she mustered all of her strength to release her foot – but no, the step kept a tight hold on it, like concrete jelly around her shoe.

"Oh, for _god's _sake." She hissed, her temper firing up like a flame; her thick reddish-gingery hair whirled to the side as she twisted her head and grabbed a banister, using it to try and pull herself out – and, nothing. This was just _embarrassing_.

And then, suddenly, she felt hands under her armpits – she was yanked out – and before she could even pull away and see who had helped her, she was bundled into a side corridor and a hand had clamped over her mouth – what the hell? She instantly recognised the messy mop of pale blonde hair and the icy blue eyes, but Scorpius wasn't even looking at her. His left hand was covering her mouth, his right holding his wand – but not towards her, towards the entrance to the side corridor, where his eyes were fixed. Then, still without even looking at her, he removed his hand and put a finger to his lips, a clear signal to shut the hell up.

"Scor –" she started to hiss, but he shot her a scolding glance, before turning back towards the entrance to the side corridor. For some reason, her brain forced her to snap her mouth shut – why was she listening to him? He could quite easily be leading her into a trap...

And then she heard the slow, lumbering voice of Jeremy Flint – he plodded past the corridor with a gang of about eight Slytherins, all with their wands out. Were he and Scorpius fighting? If so, then why had Malfoy included _her_ in this? To use her as a human shield? Typical.

When the voices died away, Scorpius whipped around to face her before she had even opened her mouth to speak, an eyebrow raised in its usual unimpressed fashion.

"You do know that after rejecting Flint so many times, he's actually looking to threaten you with hexes? And before you come back with a witty retort on how you're obviously much more skilled with magic, you wouldn't last long in a group of nine blockheads, because even though they're thick, they can still hit a target that's smack bang in front of them."

Rose had no idea what to say. She spluttered for a couple of seconds.

"Why is he so obsessed with me?" she asked. Who else _could _she ask? The question just popped out. Scorpius shrugged.

"He's taken a liking to you, I guess? Flint is known for being an idiot when he tries to get his way."

"Ugh. Why can't he just take a hint? And... and, why did you jump in? Again?" She rolled her eyes. What sort of impression was he trying to make? Why did he even bother pulling her out of that trick step? They hated each other. He would have been sitting watching with a bucket of popcorn if Flint had actually cornered her.

Scorpius gave her a condescending look.

"I may be a lot of things, Weasel, but I'm not gonna let someone get hopelessly outnumbered, especially when they have no idea that they're going to get ambushed."

"But... we don't like each other, remember?"

Scorpius shrugged again.

"Guess my chivalrous personality just got the better of me." He smirked one of his cocky, I'm-so-perfect smirks.

Rose snorted.

"Chivalrous, sure. I don't know why you keep 'saving' me, for want of a better word." She said grimly. "First Filch and the dungbombs. Now this. What the hell is going on?"

"What_evs_, Weasel." Scorpius sighed, dodging the question and twirling his wand between his fingers, the other hand deep in his pocket. "Now scurry along."

"You're such a patronising little git, you know that?" Rose said dryly, glaring at him.

"You're so charming. You know, I should get some sort of reward for being such a hero –"

"And how come you were there to haul me out of that trick step? I'm sure it wasn't a coincidence. Were... were you following me?" said Rose sharply, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Of course I wasn't." He said acidly, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm going to meet a girl, actually –"

"Ugh." Rose spat the noise of disgust at him before turning and sweeping away with as much grace as she could muster – which wasn't much, since she tripped on the way out of the corridor. She heard Scorpius snort and call after her: "And your hair is even bushier than usual, Weasel, ever heard of hair gel?"

Typical. It always seemed like every free space in Scorpius' timetable was spent either annoying her or doing some hanky-panky with some brainless girl.

Relaying the conversation in her head as she walked in the opposite direction where Flint had gone, she returned back to the common room feeling slightly off – had he complimented her? He'd said she would've said something about being a skilled witch... was that a compliment disguised in a dry, sarcastic shell? And why had he saved her, anyway? She didn't believe any of that "I may be a lot of things but I'm not" rubbish. That was coming from a guy who got girls to give themselves up for minor offences that they never did, or who completely abandoned their own potions in order to make his perfect...

Collapsing into her bed for an early night, Rose drifted off to sleep confused and agitated.

* * *

><p>James needed to make an emergency order to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes – but since he couldn't ever be trusted and was almost always searched whenever he wanted to send a letter by Filch, Rose had slid the letter into the inside of her robes and took off to the Owlery on one of her free periods.<p>

Reaching the Owlery and finding her owl, Crim, she fed him a couple of owl nuts to sweeten him up and set him off to her uncle's shop; no doubt, Crim would come back at one breakfast time laden with everything James wanted, including a few extras, free.

Turning on her heel, Rose made her way back down the stone steps, the clucking and rustling of owls in their homes fading away as she walked back towards Gryffindor tower.

Three little first-years ran past her, screaming.

"Hey! Hey, what's wrong?" Rose asked soothingly, catching one girl in mid-scurry.

"Peeves!" The first-year said shakily. "He's... he's throwing ink bottles and desks and ... everything! In the corridor up there!" First years were absolutely clueless on how to handle Peeves – two little boys soon followed, running as fast as their little legs could carry them. Rose let he girl hurry off with her friends and sighed – Peeves was a job for McGonagall, who would no doubt be on the scene in two seconds flat. Now that the main path to Gryffindor Tower was blocked by Peeves, she had to approach a tapestry, which led to a little tunnel-like corridor that not many students knew about. It was classified as 'secret' by James – and she felt wrong going through hidden passages, well, she _was _a Prefect, and exploiting secret corridors was hardly model behaviour – but she lifted the tapestry and ducked behind it, before letting out a little yelp as she collided with a warm body.

The force of hitting a person sent her bouncing back a few steps, and her eyes focused themselves in the dim light of the tunnel. A girl was pressed against the wall, her hair askew, blinking at Rose like a rabbit caught in a pair of headlights. And a few steps away was Scorpius, rubbing the spot of his head where Rose's skull had collided with his.

"What the –" Rose started, a mixture of embarrassment and shock rising within her.

She was met with silence. Her brain was ordering her legs to turn around and flee as fast as she could, but for some reason she was frozen to the floor, not able to move a muscle.

Scorpius stopped rubbing his head.

"Weasel, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I was – the common room – Peeves..." She choked out, still feeling somewhat outraged. Outrage? Why in the name of Merlin was she feeling _outraged_, out of all things?

The girl was patting her hair back into shape. She had bright dark eyes and brown curly hair that reached just above her shoulders – Rose recognised her as Georgia Parkinson, one of Scorpius' biggest fangirls. No doubt, he was just indulging in some hanky panky as he was probably bored, and got it from one of his unlimited suppliers.

Finally, her legs listened. Before anyone could say anything else, Rose tore herself away from the spot and ran out of the secret tunnel. She didn't stop for breath once on the way back to the common room – she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her breath coming out in ragged pants, flying through corridors and up staircases until, gasping the password to the Fat Lady, she clambered into Gryffindor Tower and flew up the stairs to her dormitory, where she fell onto her bed face-first, and stayed there, frozen in place, her legs aching, gasping for breath.

Why did she feel like she wanted to cry? Scorpius did that with girls on a daily basis – it wasn't news to her. It wasn't shock. In fact, sometimes he even publicly displayed his affection for his current girlfriend, which wasn't pleasant to watch in the slightest.

She felt like something inside her was ripping apart into tiny pieces, and hot knives were stabbing through her flesh, and she just had an unquenchable, utterly strange desire to cry until her tear ducts were dry.

Could she possibly have been _hurt _by what she'd just witnessed? No, she didn't have feelings for Scorpius. Ew. No, not at all. He was a disgusting piece of slime that could easily be found stuck to the bottom of a troll's foot.

Then why did she feel like this? There was no denying that Scorpius was extremely good looking, yes – but he was absolutely vile, and she had thought that since her very first day at Hogwarts. She detested him. They detested each other.

Once again, Rose went to sleep that night completely and utterly perplexed.

* * *

><p>The news that Scorpius' new girlfriend was Georgia Parkinson spread like wildfire through Hogwarts – people, especially Scorpius' hordes of fangirls, always liked to be updated on who he was currently interested in.<p>

"Weasel."

The voice popped over Rose's right shoulder before Scorpius himself had materialised into the thin air beside her.

"You still haven't apologised for walking in on me and Georgie yesterday."

Rose ground her teeth – he was just being deliberately annoying. She kept her eyes fixed in front of her.

"Someone looks jealous."

Rose laughed spitefully.

"Me? Jealous? Oh, please. And besides, even if I _wa_s interested in you, which I never would be, this isn't exactly shocking news. Everyone knows that her auntie Pansy and your dad used to flirt constantly at Hogwarts, so it was only a matter of time before you plucked her from your mass of deluded, screaming fangirls." she said bitterly. At the end of this sentence, Rose turned sharply down a corridor towards Charms. Scorpius' eyes narrowed, but he seemed to give up any idea of a retort, and instead simply walked away from her, looking angry. Rose smiled as his back grew smaller and eventually disappeared out of sight. She'd won that little spat – but it was sort of a hollow victory.


	6. Chapter 6

Georgia Parkinson was unbearable.

Being a Slytherin, that not only meant she shared a lot of classes with Scorpius, but Rose too. Of course, Scorpius still sauntered over to wherever Rose was working to tease or hinder her, but they were shorter than usual, and he usually returned to his seat to Georgia's croons and kisses. Rose felt slightly sick as the sounds of her sugary voice, complimenting and praising him to no end, floated over to her table.

It was Potions – the redhead kept her gaze fixed downwards at her cauldron, preparing her ingredients even more precisely as usual, if that was even possible. She forced herself not to look up even once – if she did, she _knew _she'd catch sight of Scorpius' pale hair, and then maybe puke at the sight of Georgia with her hand in his hair, or whispering something into his ear, or sitting on his lap...

A sharp, "Miss Parkinson, please remove yourself from Mr Malfoy's person" from the Potions Professor made Rose wince internally. She had no idea why she felt like this, but all she knew was that she felt like bursting into tears, and/or puking straight into her cauldron. She had little bursts of these emotions, but managed to fight them down most of the time, forcing them into the back of her mind where they would hopefully be forgotten.

She had just finished slicing a selection of roots and adding them carefully to her bubbling white potion and had grasped the long stirrer with both hands when Scorpius made his regular visit to her domain.

"You know what that looks like?" He said, bursting into the scene and peering down into her cauldron. Readying herself, she tore her eyes away from the smooth wood of the table and looked at Scorpius, with the most disdainful look she could muster. He was looking down into her cauldron, avoiding the thin plumes of gas rising from it, his hair flopping down into his eyes as he bent over – his hair, it looked so soft and it somehow fell so perfectly onto his face...

Rose mentally shook herself back to the situation. Scorpius straightened up, the usual smirk on his face.

"You haven't answered me."

"Well, I'm betting you won't say anything as innocent or mature as milk."

"Piss off, Malfoy." Albus said from the table beside Rose, totally unhelpfully, but before he could continue, thick clouds of smoke began to issue from his potion, engulfing his head completely. Albus started coughing and, thinking his offhand comment had been enough to deter Scorpius from his cousin, he valiantly tried to save his potion, which was now a shade of hot pink.

"Go away." Rose said, as Scorpius' mouth opened to say something.

"Geez, you're so _sour _these days."

"Go find another playmate, then." She said roughly, not looking at him at all and focusing on the beans she was squeezing to extract the juice. She promised herself she wouldn't look up until he left – she could see his shape at the top of her vision, looking at her quizzically, but she kept her eyes down onto the table again.

"You're squeezing them wrong."

"I do everything wrong, according to you."

"Your beans should be chopped horizontally, too."

"Are you stupid, Scorpius? Everyone knows that cutting them lengthways is best for all potions."

"Not for this particular one. That's why the instruction's in bold." She could hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness, the cockiness, the I'm-so-superior-to-everyone-else-and-you're-just-plain-wrong-haha-ness.

Rose looked at the instruction. Sure enough, the word "widthways" had been bolded...

_Stir the potion counter-clockwise three times, then chop the dandelion roots __**widthways**__ and add to the mixture without delay._

It took all of her dignity and strength to meet Scorpius' eyes again – he was leaning forward. Palms on her table, that irritating grin boring into her.

"I think I deserve an apology!"

"You deserve a slap in the face."

"Rude. I'll give you a slap – how does the bum sound?"

"Not very appealing, to be honest."

Georgia's high-pitched voice shattered the banter between them, calling shrilly from the other side of the classroom:

"Scorp! Get away from her and come help me with my bulb!" she trilled, holding up a pulsing purple bulb that was covered in smudges of dirt. Thankfully, Georgia hadn't taken a dislike to Rose – yet. The Weasley was just waiting for the day where Georgia would deem her as some kind of threat and turn hostile towards her.

And, really, after all this time, even though she absolutely hated Scorpius' guts, she couldn't imagine life without him being a knob all the time. ... Was that a good thing?

As she watched Scorpius roll his eyes playfully and walk leisurely back to Georgia, hands in his pockets, she had to admit... maybe... maybe her hatred for him was slowly being replaced by something else.

But she refused to accept what it was. Absolutely.

Urgh. It was _Scorpius_. She truly did detest him. But he was just so... so...

* * *

><p>At dinner, Lily took a seat beside Hugo, eyes red and swollen, face blotchy, tear tracks streaking down her cheeks.<p>

There was a stony silence as Rose, Hugo and Albus diverted their attention to their plates, tucking in furiously and shoving as many roast potatoes as they could into their mouth. Lily hadn't been seen all evening, which was odd, as she was usually the life of the party in the common room. But now, here she was, grabbing a plate of beef and picking at it hopelessly, sniffing occasionally and running the back of her hand across her puffy eyes.

There was no point asking her anything – with Lily, you left it until she felt better, and then she'd spill all. They all knew how to be patient and calm with her – no pitying looks, no endless questions, no patting on the back.

Unfortunately, they all knew that James would fly into a rage when he saw his baby sister upset.

As soon as he plonked down beside Rose, he started to stuff a stack of roast vegetables down his throat, munching loudly with his cheeks filled to the brim, like a squirrel collecting nuts for storing.

Then the penny dropped.

James' hands slammed onto the table and stood up, bits of broccoli and carrot flying out of his mouth and he spoke.

"What's happened, Lil? Has someone said something to you? Was it a boy? Was it a girl? Did they -"

Lily was prepared for the interrogation.

"Nothing, James. It's nothing." She sniffed, trying to give him a blazing look of self-sufficiency.

"If I find the little shit who did this to you-"

"I can fight my own battles, James!"

"You're in a fight-?"

"No, I'm not. I'll sort it out."

"You can tell me, you know-"

"I knew you'd give me the Spanish Inquisition! I only came down because I was hungry! But _forget_ it." She sighed, grabbing a handful of chicken drumsticks and sweeping away from the table, her fiery red hair blooming behind her as she stomped out of the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>"You know you can tell me, Lily." Rose moved a strand of Lily's hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. They were sitting peacefully in front of the fire in the common room, just the two of them, having some catch-up time. Although they were cousins, they were pretty much sisters. After Albus, Lily was Rose's number one confidant – it felt wrong to ask Lily to spill her secrets when Rose herself was keeping something from her. But Lily was a wreck – her hair was all over the place, her usually pretty face smudged.<p>

"I know." Lily blubbed in reply. "It's just... oh. It's... um... Ritchie."

"But he seemed so nice." Rose crooned smoothly, keeping her eyes locked onto Lily's. "What's he done?"

"He... he broke up with me."

This seemed odd. Lily was usually bulletproof in this context – she was the Queen of relationships. She could bounce back from anything. She was mostly the one doing the dumping. How could that little Ritchie kid have broken her heart so badly? The worst Lily had ever done in terms of relationships was shrug and say "I guess it wasn't working". She'd never cried this badly before, never shed this much water, never let herself spiral into a state where her hair was tangled and knotted.

"Why are you crying so much?" Rose asked gently, letting the heat of the fire bathe the right side of her body. "You're never like this."

"He was... he meant a lot to me. I guess... it was a shock. I've never really had a relationship with anyone like that one. I don't know."

Rose suddenly had a thought.

No.

Lily was only fourteen. She wouldn't... she'd never...

Rose felt uneasy, but Lily would never have done it. She wouldn't have sex at _such _an early age. She wouldn't. Girls at Hogwarts usually lost their virginities in the sixth or seventh year – although it wasn't uncommon for fifth-years to go at it, either. But Lily... she'd never.

Should she risk asking? It was embarrassing, but Lily was pretty much her sister... who else could she talk to about these kinds of things? Certainly not Albus, James or Hugo...

And Lily was usually never this broken over a _boy_. What if she'd given up something really special for him?

"Lily..." Rose started tentatively. "You didn't... you know..."

Lily's eyes clouded with confusion for a few seconds, before clearing and being replaced by a sparkle of shock. Her eyebrows shot up.

"No! Of course not, Rose. No way." She said, her mouth open in a surprised O shape, before settling into a giggle. "I can't believe you just asked that."

Rose giggled too, half out of the humour of the situation, half out of relief. Thank Merlin.

Smiling, Lily left and went to bed.

Rose didn't know how long she spent sitting in front of the fire by herself, thinking about the twist her life had suddenly taken. Scorpius. How had he drawn her in? They'd always hated each other. It didn't make sense for her to suddenly develop feelings for him.

No.

They weren't feelings. They were nothing.

A... a slight deviation off her hatred for him, that's all. It would clear up by itself.

Satisfied with this explanation, Rose went to bed. It was far from a happy sleep, but it would do for tonight.

* * *

><p><em>It was Charms. They were supposed to be making goblets sing – Rose flicked her wand and said the incantation for the billionth time, but nothing happened.<em>

_Angry, she started swishing it more vigorously, starting to shout. The goblet stood before her stubbornly._

_"Hey, calm down." Scorpius' voice was smooth and controlled, and there he was, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, his expression unimpressed. "This is how you do it."_

_He placed a hand on hers, then moved it through the air, saying the incantation in those seductive tones. And then, as the goblet began to sing shrilly, Rose's wand had fallen to the floor with a clatter, and she was kissing Scorpius gently – his hands around her waist, her arms around his neck –_

Rose woke up, a thin sheen of sweat layering her forehead. She was slightly out of breath... sitting up, she focused in on her surroundings. Her dormitory in Gryffindor Tower...

It had been a dream. She hadn't been making a goblet sing. Malfoy hadn't kissed her. She hadn't felt his warm body against hers, his skinny but strong arms locked around her waist, his soft hair pressed against her face, his slight muscles under her flesh...

Blood rushing to her cheeks, she was glad there wasn't a Legilimens in the room, watching her, seeing her deepest secret, the one thing in her life that she was utterly ashamed of.

With a flushed face and a startled expression, Rose lay back down onto her pillow, her heart beating fast.

She stayed awake for the rest of the night.

**Author's note: I know this chapter's quite short, but I'm planning to update this more regularly and not neglect it again. I'll start making time slots for it in my schedule! I hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for being patient!**


	7. Chapter 7

It was hard to even look at Scorpius after the dream. Not that Rose even wanted to – the disgusting little creature couldn't take his hands off his new prize. Well, in Scorpius' terms – he was never lovey dovey, not to anyone. He kept his girls on the fringe of being teased, occasionally placing a hand on their hip, an arm around their waist – enough to satisfy them, but still leaving them wanting way more. As far as Rose knew, the boy himself hated kissing in public – he preferred to stand and cuddle, or talk and laugh, showing off how great he was instead of actually indulging in anything. He was slightly more lenient towards Georgia, blatantly holding some sort of soft spot for her, if a place like that even existed in his heart, but he was still fairly distant and relaxed, still made her squeal for him to return to her when he wandered around the classroom, still made her grab him and try for some affection. He was completely in control, but hey, what was new?

Not only was it sickening to watch, but whenever Rose caught a glimpse of the hair, or the eyes, or anything relating to him at all, she had a vivid flashback of her dream – his body, her body, his hair, her hair... and that made her cheeks flush again.

Rose was fairly inexperienced in the boys-relationships-stuff aspect. She'd only ever had one boyfriend, Jamie Hoffet, and that had lasted, what, two weeks? And that was in her fourth year. She'd always been uninterested in boys, preferring to focus on her homework and studying. Plus, there were a number of things that also presented themselves as obstacles: her seemingly-scary social status, what with being a child of two of the three kids who had saved the world all those years ago; James, who everyone knew would be viciously overprotective towards anyone who touched her or Lily; and the simple fact that Rose wasn't amazingly pretty. She was no Georgia Parkinson, no Lily Luna Potter. She had bushy ginger hair, for one, and although her face wasn't ugly, she never really put any effort into her appearance, like the girls who spent hours in the dormitory bathroom getting ready before breakfast each day. In the rare occurrence when Rose would develop a crush, it would usually be short-lived, and she'd just bury her nose in a nearby book whenever she caught sight of them.

But this was Scorpius. It was different. She was 100% sure that she'd throw him into the lake for the Giant Squid to play with if she ever got the chance, but was also equally struck by how _pretty _he was. And not just that – the cockiness and arrogance and self-confidence that oozed from him in waves was somehow alluring. Even his annoying tendencies to turn up at her side and hinder whatever she was doing was mildly attractive, the way he struck up a flirty banter with her so effortlessly was just awesome, in the true sense of the word. Granted, he'd flirted with her constantly since they were old enough to know what it was, and she'd learned to navigate it slickly like a seal on a block of ice, but it still retained some sort of shocking quality that hit her every time.

But Rose wasn't an angsty-lovestruck kind of girl. She'd simply hold her head high and continue to act the way she normally did with that boy.

Trying to solidify this mantra in her head, Rose defiantly looked up from the flowers she was trying to turn gold, and glanced over at Scorpius. He was sitting lazily in his chair, flicking his wand and turning the flowers a different colour every time. Silver, purple, black, acid green, deep red... it was quite pleasant to watch, and Rose's eyes caught there for a moment, before realising that Georgia was leaning over the back of his chair, her chin on the top of his head, flattening the messy blonde hair, her arms lashed protectively around her boyfriend's neck.

_Well, that idea just shattered_. Rose thought, as the strong-defiant act suddenly crumbled from within her. She looked at Georgia's perfectly styled hair, the bright dark eyes, the unblemished face, the legs that seemed to go on forever, and knew she'd never match up to that.

Wait, what?

Match up?

"Are you stupid?" She muttered to herself. There was no _matching up _going on here. She was _not _in a fight for Scorpius. No way would she ever put herself in that kind of situation for a slimy git like him. She just had some silly schoolgirl feelings for that creep.

Ugh.

Ugh.

... Ugh.

She _still_ hadn't turned the petals on her flowers gold. It was infuriating – her and Scorpius were usually evenly matched when it came to academic success, with her perhaps leading by a fraction. Now here she was, singeing her petals and making them wither, while he was sitting there, sprawled in his chair, not a care in the world, turning his flowers whatever colour he wanted with an idle flick of his wand.

Git.

Utter git.

* * *

><p>"Will you <em>get a room<em>?" Rose sighed, exasperated, as Scorpius and Georgia blocked the doorway of the Charms classroom. Everyone else had left – the Professor had held Rose back to ask why her progress had suddenly plummeted, but after waving him off and managing to get away with just being 'tired', Rose had trotted out of the Charms classroom – and, in a horrible parallel to that incident behind the tapestry, tripping right over Georgia's ankle as her and Scorpius canoodled on the outside edge of the door before they split to go to different lessons – her to Care of Magical Creatures, him to Arithmancy, which was, unfortunately, Rose's next class.

The pair broke apart and Georgia shot the redhead the dirtiest look she'd ever seen in her life, before giving Scorpius another quick peck on the cheek – marking her territory? – and sauntered off, her satchel bouncing on her hip, the hem of her skirt swishing just below her butt.

Rose knew that Malfoy would snag this chance to continually annoy her as they made their way to Arithmancy – so she shot off in the opposite direction to Georgia, walking hurriedly, but he was faster. He always was. He seemed to swagger beside her without exerting any sort of effort, despite the fact that she was walking as fast as she could without breaking into a run. Hands in his pockets, tie loose, his satchel swung casually across his torso – it was infuriating just to look at him.

"What?" Rose snapped, refusing to look at him.

"What's your problem these days? You're so... tetchy." He delicately took a lock of her bushy red hair and played with it, twirling it around his finger.

Rose shot him a death stare and jerked her head to the side, the lock of hair escaping his hand. He smirked, his hand falling to his side.

"You're just extra irritating, that's all." Rose said acidly, quickening her step. Scorpius followed suit, so they were still walking through corridors together. There were only a few smatterings of students who hadn't reached their classrooms yet.

"Ever heard of hair gel? A brush?" He teased, those blue eyes scanning her bushy mane again.

She could have responded with anything. Anything at all. He'd used that comment so many times before – _so _many times. And every time, she'd brushed it off, disregarded it, retorted with a witty comeback, and he would enjoy a fast-paced banter for a couple of minutes. Anything. She could have reused an old insult. Anything. But no. She shot herself in the foot.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry my hair's not all perfect like _Georgia's_." She spat bitterly. A millisecond later, she realised what she'd said, and gasped, not able to control the sound escaping her mouth – she glanced furtively at Scorpius, noticed his eyes widening for a split second, then keeping his expression normal, which looked as if it required a lot of effort.

An awkward, stony silence ensued. He couldn't exactly speed up or slow down, break any pace with her, otherwise it'd be even more painstakingly awkward and obvious – they just had to pretend she'd never said that. No, that never happened. That had just been wiped out of existence.

Rose felt blood rushing to her face.

Oh god.

Oh god, oh god. Why had she said that? Why? She started to beat herself up internally.

_You stupid, stupid girl._

Scorpius had either kept his eyes glued to the carpet at their feet or fixed to the air in front of them, as if oblivious to the fact that she was there.

_Only two more minutes. _She thought gratefully, as they climbed the last staircase towards Arithmancy. _Then you can sit away from him and forget all about it._

And then, while she was winded, Scorpius smacked her straight into the ground.

"Your hair is prettier than her's."

It threw her completely. It was so out of the blue – completely unexpected. And now he was looking at _her, _his eyes fixed on her face. There was no cocky smirk, or sheepish grin – his expression was serious, stony, frowning slightly, as if concentrating; eyeing her face nervously, as if she would explode.

"Wh-what?"

"Your hair is prettier than her's." He repeated. They were standing stock still, facing each other; her mouth open in a small O, eyes startled – his expression still hard, blazing, almost as if they were in an argument.

"What's that got to do with anything?" She blurted out, her words jumbling up in her mouth as they were released; she bit her lip and closed her mouth at the same time – why was she having so much trouble controlling her body at the moment?

"You know exactly what that's got to do with anything-"

That was it. Her body broke out of its paralysed state – she turned and walked straight into the Arithmancy classroom, almost walking straight into it face-first, her hand only just managing to twist the door handle at the last moment.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't talk to him about... about what? What was it, exactly? Feelings? Phases? Crushes? General things concerning being attracted to someone?

Staggering slightly as she entered the classroom, she sat down at the nearest table, gathering her limbs and bag in a haphazardly manner, her mind splattered all over the place.

Scorpius didn't follow her.

* * *

><p><strong>YES I KNOW IT'S SHORT. But they'll be more frequent, so hey, technically you're getting more content in the long run! ;D<strong>


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